


Survival

by StarrySkies282



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Gen, High School, Sorry Cassie, based off and the trial of the one, cassandra backstory, the school trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:19:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrySkies282/pseuds/StarrySkies282
Summary: This was going to be a terrible day, one of those days when it’s best to stay in bed because everything is going to turn out bad





	Survival

**Author's Note:**

> hey sooo I wrote this a while ago but I never finished it because of exams but I finally did it so here you go x

_~~~~This was going to be a terrible day, one of those days when it’s best to stay in bed because everything is going to turn out bad_ , thought Cassandra. And she had good reason for thinking so. Why did her parents have to sign her up for _this_ trip? They knew what it would mean for her. But as usual, they told her it was ‘an experience,’ that it was ‘character building’ and would no doubt help her towards her ‘goal.’  
And so, she was stuck on this coach, heading for a weekend of hell, surrounded by raucous shouts, alone, hoping to disappear before it all started again. She wouldn’t be so lucky.  
She was staring out of the grimy window, trying to wish herself away when the spit ball hit her cheek.  
_Ugh_ , _why_ _did_ _kids_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _so_ _unhygienic_?  
Then the taunting started.  
“Hey, wacky Cassie, still talking to yourself?”  
“ _Freak_!” Someone yelled.  
And then came the laughing.  
And Margo shouting: “why don’t you just disappear, Cassie?”  
Honestly, Cassandra wanted to, with all her heart. But it just wasn’t possible.  
She sank further down in her seat, hoping they would get there sooner so she could at least disappear into the safety of her own tent. From far off she heard Miss Pope call out, telling them they were almost there, and Cassandra began mentally calculating the minutes left until she was home again.  
It was going to be a long weekend.  
-  
The coach pulled to a stop and everyone began to leave, grateful to stretch their legs after the three-hour coach ride. Cassandra kept her head down, trying not to draw any more unwanted attention to herself.  
Too late.  
“Oops, sorry Cassie,” she heard Margo’s derisive voice as her bags were kicked under the seat on purpose.  
Cassandra knew better than to reply by now. She carried on, gathering her bags and left the coach. On her way out, she caught Nicole’s eye. She smiled slightly at Cassandra—it wasn’t unfriendly—and left the coach.  
Cassandra sighed. She could have been friends with her if they didn’t do what they did.  
The sky was grey, and the trees hung low as the camp leader began giving out instructions and Miss Pope stood glaring at them all, as though daring them to break a rule. Cassandra stood towards the back, slightly apart from the others, waiting to be dismissed so she could pitch her tent furthest away from everyone else. Just so she could have a bit of respite from it all. It wasn’t meant to be.  
Between the tent pitching and the walk, the voices followed her. Throughout the day, they were hurled at her.  
They’re just words. She reminded herself, convincing herself they couldn’t hurt. But all the same, they still stung: it was getting harder to let the continuous tirade bounce off her.  
Again, they were around the campfire, the flames illuminating their faces. Laughing. Joking. Singing. She longed to join them, but she knew that if she did, it would make her life even worse. She wished she could be more like them, at least then she wouldn’t be alone. And then perhaps she wouldn’t be skulking in the shadows, trying to stay out of sight.

  
“Hey, look who it is,” she heard James call out.  
Cassandra closed her eyes. She just wanted to disappear. Have the ground swallow her up. Or just die.  
And then they started up once more with Margo’s song. To the tune of Ode to Joy—ironic really, when they meant to bully her. There was nothing _joyous_ in that. For her, anyway.  
“SHE’S THE SUCKIEST, SHE’S THE YUCKIEST SHE’S THE WORST GIRL TIMES A MILLION! SHE’S SO ICKY AND SHE GETS HICKEYS AND WE ALL HATE CASSANDRA CILLIAN!”  
“Come sit with us Cassie,” called Zoe, smiling maliciously.  
“No-no thanks,” Cassandra replied, preparing to run.  
“Ooh she thinks she’s better than us,” cried one of Margo’s friends: Cassandra couldn’t remember which one.  
“You think you’re so clever, but really, you’re just a freak. I’ve heard you talking to yourself in maths about—what was it? Ah, yes, _maple_ _syrup_.”  
She began to run.  
“Get her!” James shouted.  
She heard them behind her. Her heart was pounding, and the breathing began to get difficult. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up for.  
“CASSANDRA!”  
“WACKY CASSIE TRIED TO RUN, WACKY CASSIE YOU’RE NO FUN!”  
She saw Miss Pope’s cabin up ahead. The voices were dying down. Breathing heavily, she began knocking on the door, praying for an answer. Nothing. Typical Miss. Pope. As unhelpful as always. Even going as far as saying Cassandra exaggerated what they did or said to her on the occasion she went to see her. That just gave them more ammunition. To call her crazy.  
There was another cabin—a shed really, further away. She had mapped it out in her head before. If she could just get there in time…  
The shouts were getting louder. Something hit her.  
They were throwing rocks now? No, it wasn’t hard enough.  
“Well, well, well, wacky Cassie, how rude. We were being nice and friendly, and you ran away. Now you can’t exactly complain you don’t have any friends if you keep running away from everyone, can you?”  
“But look, what’s that on the ground, didn’t you feel it hit you?” Cried Zoe, almost cackling. _So_ _it_ _was_ _her_.  
Cassandra looked down, and in the torchlight, she saw it.  
A slug.  
They were laughing again.  
“Looks like wacky Cassie’s found a friend,” someone shouted. Cassandra could no longer distinguish between their voices. They had all merged into one.  
“Eat it.” A voice said, next to her ear.  
She shook her head.  
“Eat it, eat it, eat it!” They all began chanting.  
She felt the tears smarting in her eyes.  
“Don’t cry Cassie, you’ve found a friend.” It was Margo in a horrible mock baby voice.  
“Now eat it!” Commanded James mercilessly.  
“No!” She cried, finally finding her voice.  
“ _No_? Woah, Cassie, I think you’ve forgotten who we are. You don’t disobey _us_.”  
“James, please.”  
“Eat it,” he replied coldly. “Go on.” He dangled it in front of her face, smiling vindictively.  
She shook her head again and tried to bat the slug away. She felt something connect with the side of her face.  
“How do you like that, slut?” Hissed James, pushing her backwards. She tripped and fell to the floor. Pain surged through her as she once again tried not to cry.  
The others were sniggering.  
“See ya ’round wacky Cassie.”  
They turned to go, taking the light with them as they went. She felt her face: there’d be a bruise there tomorrow. She sighed: how was she going to explain _that_ away to her parents?  
How would she even tell them any of this? So far, she hadn’t. They didn’t know. She tried to stand but felt too shaky. She didn’t have the heart to try and get back to her tent; they had probably destroyed it by now anyway, and there was no point trying to reassemble it in the dark. Cassandra sighed. Fumbling around on the ground, she found her bag was still there. They hadn’t taken it. At least that was safe. Her notebook was there, and, she recalled, a torch. She was glad she hadn’t left it in the tent. The only option now was the shed.  
-  
She made her way there, deftly in the dark, guided only by the torchlight from her singular torch. It was, thankfully, unlocked, so she could hardly call it breaking and entering. The space was small and filled mainly with tools and bits of wood—probably for campsite repairs—but Cassandra had dealt with far worse hiding places during her time at high school. Settling down on the floor cross-legged with a dust sheet to make it slightly more comfortable, she opened her notebook. It was sellotaped in many places—places where it had been torn by her classmates.  
She found the page she was looking for. A velocity equation linked to the centripetal force of planetary orbits: part of her project for the upcoming science fair. It calmed her. The maths. The physics. Their fluidity. It made sense, unlike why they did what they did.  
But in that moment she realised she didn’t want to think about it anymore. She didn’t want to be consumed by that feeling. Sure, it would return, and strike as usual, but for now, hidden away in a shed in the middle of a campsite, she wanted to remain lost in he maths and the way it made sense. Alone with her thoughts in the sanctuary she had made for herself, never mind the outside world.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I am so sad because it’s official that the Librarians is cancelled as they couldn’t find anyone to take it on


End file.
